


Schuld

by katherine_tag



Series: Author's Favorites [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: An Assassin and White Shaman, Angst, M/M, Seriously Old Fic, the author digs in her archives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-03
Updated: 2004-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherine_tag/pseuds/katherine_tag
Summary: We all have debts. Ran Fujimiya just has larger ones than most.
Relationships: Fujimiya "Aya" Ran/Kudou Yohji
Series: Author's Favorites [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848181
Kudos: 1





	Schuld

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote WK fanfiction between 2001 and 2004. Just posting here so it's all in one place.
> 
> Author's note recreated for posterity: for Tritorella - thanks

Ran owed two large debts he could never repay. The first was to Kritiker. The second was to Shion, and it had nothing to do with Kritiker at all.

His father had always told him that an honorable man pays back his debts. That to live an honest life was only possible if a man was responsible - responsible for his actions, his beliefs, his family. Ran knew, the moment he had seen the hospital bed with that damning cross, that he had failed his father. He had lost what little was left of his hopes and dreams that day.

And so he only had two goals in life. One, to take care of Aya-chan, to be belatedly responsible for her, and to somehow make his utter failure right again. Two, to destroy the organization that had sought to exploit her.

He had reached both of his goals. SS was in pieces, their agents either dead or in hiding. And Aya-chan was awake; she was walking and talking and laughing again, though sometimes a shadow of sadness crossed over her face. Ran was content with that. He couldn't bring himself to show her the man her brother had become, because he was ashamed of his failures. He had failed to keep her safe the day their parents died, and he had failed to keep her safe while she was in a coma, waiting to come back to the world.

Of course, his responsibility toward Aya-chan had not ended either, the day she had woken up in Manx's arms. He was still taking care of her and watching over her, and therefore his debt to Kritiker would never end. Ran would continue to pay for his sister's safety and well-being with the blood of other men.

His debt to Shion was another matter all together.

* * *

Ran sat at the top of the stairs and smoked a cigarette. He had started smoking while he was doing construction work, an excuse not to talk to anyone during breaks. No one in Weiss had caught on, though it had been years since SS had fallen. He felt sure that they wouldn't, as long as Youji was around.

Youji ... their relationship might have taken a different turn, if Ran hadn't left after killing Takatori, and Neu had never existed. Ran had felt something growing between them, and perhaps that was part of why he felt he had to leave Weiss. After Botan had convinced him to come back, and Youji had seemingly gotten over whatever Neu was to him, they had started having sex again. But it was just sex, and it didn't really matter.

They had fallen out of the habit, while in the mobile flower shop. There just wasn't enough privacy, and Youji seemed to be fighting his own kind of battle. Ran had never asked, and Youji had never volunteered exactly what he had been doing. Or why he knew Ayame and Azami, and what he had shared with them.

In a way, Ran was glad. It meant he didn't have to care about anything except his sister, and keeping himself alive so that he could take care of her. Whatever their relationship had been before, it was better this way.

Still, he couldn't sleep, so he was waiting for Youji. Though they were in Kyoto now, Youji's nighttime habits had reverted back to the time when they were living in the Koneko. Ran lit another cigarette and meditated as he smoked, trying to reach that perfect state of No Emotions as Shion had taught him long ago in Sendai. It was no use, of course. He was too wound up in the past. His sister's birthday was the next day. The anniversary was both life and death to him, and he couldn't get it out of his mind.

 _You love your sister too much,_ Kikyou said, a ghost he hadn't heard in weeks. _You will never become the man Shion wanted you to be._

 _Be gone,_ Ran thought at Kikyou fiercely, and crushed the cigarette out in the corner of a stair.

A bang and a muffled curse from downstairs told him Youji was finally home. The blond appeared at the bottom of the stairwell and blinked muzzily up at him.

"Yo, Aya," he said, and started climbing the stairs a little unsteadily.

Ran stood up, slipping the butts of the cigarettes in the pocket of his loose cotton pants.

Youji got halfway up the stairs and stopped, clutching the railing. He looked slyly at Ran. "Wanna fuck?" he asked.

That was what Ran had been waiting for, but Kikyou had ruined his mood. "No," he said shortly, and turned toward his room.

"Bastard," he heard Youji say faintly as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

Most people never thought about debt. Ran did. He supposed that some people wouldn't consider his debt to Shion a debt at all. But what is debt, really? Did it exist solely in his own mind? And if it did, did it really matter at all?

Shion wouldn't be collecting any time soon.

But still, Ran felt the pull, felt the ambition to achieve where Shion had failed, felt he owed it to his teacher. So he strove to find No Emotions, that place where he had no connections to anything, where he threw his thoughts and feelings away and became one with the living sword. The living sword - to draw his sword in order to let others live.

Not to kill for the sake of killing. Not to become like Shion had been in the end, seeking oblivion and darkness in the splash of blood.

Not to _want_ to kill.

 _Don't lie to yourself, boy,_ Kikyou said. _You know you want it. The beautiful feeling of blood on your hands ... yours is a killing sword, just like mine._

"No," Ran said, and remembered the feel of Shion's blood on his hands.

* * *

It was late when Ran came home and found Youji sleeping on the couch. Ken had gone straight in the front door and up the stairs to his room, and presumably to bed. They had been doing reconnaissance for their next mission, and it had involved sitting around in a car and counting guards and how many minutes between patrols. Ken hated that sort of thing, and had been restless and complaining the entire time. Ran endured stoically, and thought of _waves breaking on a long, smooth beach, blood red sun sinking into the ocean._

Shion telling him to let go of the sword and return to his sister ...

He rounded the side of the couch and stood staring blankly for a moment, as Youji's eyes opened and he blinked the sleep away.

"Hey," he said sleepily, and pushed himself up into a sitting position, long legs still stretched out on the couch. He was wearing a black tank top and silk pajama pants, not his usual sleeping attire, Ran knew. The black cross of Youji's tattoo stood out starkly on the pale skin of his upper arm.

Ran sat down on the end of the couch vacated by Youji's feet and ran a hand through his hair.

"I couldn't sleep," Youji said, "so I came down here and waited for you."

Translating this in his head, Ran thought, _I had a nightmare, so now I need to fuck you._ "Aa," he said out loud, but he didn't move from his position on the couch.

Youji's foot pressed into his side. "You've been quieter than usual lately."

Ran leaned back, letting his neck relax and his head rest on the cushion, not seeing the ceiling, instead _Shion kneeling, blood running down his arm, Shion standing, his sword ..._

"Aya." Youji broke the memory, and Ran turned his head to look at him. With a frown, Youji said, "Come over here."

He sighed, but he moved so he was sitting between Youji's legs, his head resting on a bony shoulder and Youji's arms loosely around him.

"Not sleeping again?" Youji asked as he combed his fingers through Ran's hair. "I can see the circles under your eyes. You should tell me before things get this bad, idiot."

"Why should I tell you?" Ran said a little petulantly. "Nothing you can do." But he breathed a little easier, and didn't push Youji's hands away as they smoothed down his face and neck, searching for the buttons on his shirt.

Youji slipped a hand inside Ran's shirt, warm against his skin. "You never ask for help," he said, finally getting the last button undone and spreading his fingers across Ran's abdomen.

"Don't need it," Ran said, turning his head slightly and inhaling Youji's cologne.

"I think you do," Youji said, rubbing his cheek against Ran's hair. "I know you better than anyone, Aya."

This struck a chord in Ran and he sat up abruptly. He was angry again; angry at just Youji, or something else, he didn't know. "You don't know me at all," he hissed, and stood up, already fastening his shirt up again.

"Well enough to know something's wrong," Youji insisted, swinging his feet down to rest on the floor. "I can see it in your face."

"Nothing's wrong," Ran spat, and walked out.

He heard Youji sigh behind him, but he didn't follow, for which Ran was grateful. He was full of nervous energy, now. Well, his sleep was full of dreams he didn't want. He could find something else to do.

* * *

The debt Ran owed to Shion was intangible to him, more of a feeling than something he could easily put into words. Something similar to the debt he felt he owed his parents, for having shaped him and taught him as he grew. Shion had also taught him many things, most of all, how to be a man. That was the part he felt he could repay, by striving to be what Shion taught him, and to live as Shion had once tried to live. The other part of the debt, well, that was not so easily settled.

He ran the polishing cloth slowly along the length of the blade, losing himself in the routine of sharpening and cleaning, and in his thoughts of the false Weiss. The sword gleamed suddenly in the low light of his room as he turned it, and he was reminded of _blood red sun, sinking into the ocean, setting Shion's sword ablaze with light._

He couldn't help but feel that he had failed Shion in some fundamental way. He hadn't wanted to kill him, and it had almost been the end of him, and Weiss, but he hadn't expected Shion to take matters into his own hands.

 _He couldn't stand the killer he had become,_ Kikyou whispered in his ear. _He was weak, just like you. Become like me, Ran. Embrace your desire. Become strong and together we can once again taste fear and blood on the air._

Ran trembled, but gave his katana one last swipe with the cloth before sheathing it. His breath came short and quick. "I'm not like you," he said to the empty room. "I will never be like you."

Kikyou's mocking laughter followed him as he fled his sanctuary.

* * *

The Kyoto night spread above him, softly black, the stars mostly outshone by the city lights below. Ran pillowed his head on his arms and closed his eyes. He remembered sitting on the bench in his mother's garden with Aya-chan, looking at the summer sky and trying to make patterns in the stars. Here, in the middle of the city, he had to strain to see any stars at all, especially since the roof of their building was overshadowed on all sides.

He peered into the square of sky he could see, idly making patterns with the few stars that shone brightly enough to struggle through the glare of Kyoto.

 _Lovely night, isn't it,_ Kikyou said.

Ran turned his head and met Kikyou's eyes. He was sprawled elegantly out beside Ran, his shining black hair swept loosely into a tail at the back of his neck. His rich blue kimono gaped open almost down to his navel. Kikyou gave him a mocking smile, twisted like it was that last time in Sendai. His sword had - _rain against his face, blood on the grass._

He refused to answer, instead closing his eyes against his past, clenching his fists with the effort of it. He could still smell Kikyou's scent, though, like a faint ocean breeze. "Leave me be," he said. "Why can't you just go away?"

 _Didn't you know, Ran?_ Kikyou asked. _We're the same. I'll always be with you._

"No," Ran whispered, and sat up.

There was a rustle of silk and then KikyouÕs hands slid around his shoulders, Kikyou's breath tickled the side of his neck, Kikyou's chest pressed up against his back. Ran was frozen, his breath coming in short pants.

Kikyou laughed softly, and said, _If you loved Shion so much, if you love your sister so much, why don't you give up your sword and go to her? Find a life with her before the darkness swallows you whole. Why haven't you done as Shion asked? Why do you stay in this life when there is another, happier, waiting for you?_

"I -" Ran struggled to breath, to pull his mind together. "I'm too dirty, I'll just taint her pure life with my dark presence. She should never have to see what I am."

 _What are you, Ran? Tell me._ Kikyou's icy fingers brushed his face.

"A killer." He trembled. "A murderer."

Kikyou gripped his chin and forced Ran to turn his head, to meet his gaze. _Then you are like me,_ he said, grinning. _You like to kill. Admit it. You can't give it up because you need it._

"No!" Ran succeeded in wrenching himself out of the ghost's grasp, stumbling away. He fell to his knees, scraping his palms on the rough gravel of the rooftop. "I'm not like you!" he screamed.

 _What a troublesome boy you are._ Kikyou winked as he vanished into the first tendrils of grey mist that were settling over Tokyo. _Someday you'll see._

"I'm not like you," Ran whispered. "You're a monster. You're not human. You're -"

The roof access door banged open with sudden force. Youji stood in the doorway, eyes wide. "Aya," he said, his face showing concern. "Are you all right?"

Ran turned his head away from his teammate, ashamed of the tears sliding down his cheeks. He hadn't even noticed them before. "Everything's fine," he said dully, hiding his face in his hands. "I'm fine."

Bootheels crunched across the gravel and then Youji was kneeling in front of him, gently prying his hands away from his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks, sighing and wrapping him in a warm embrace that was so unlike Kikyou's that Ran had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from sobbing aloud.

"It's okay," Youji whispered into Ran's hair. "It'll be okay."

* * *

He was so deep in debt he was drowning. He couldn't breathe for the obligations pressing down on him, holding him under. He needed forgiveness. He needed air.

He gasped as he woke, throwing the blankets off his body in one convulsive movement.

* * *

Ran sat at the top of the stairs again, and smoked a cigarette. He couldn't sleep, Kikyou's presence so close in his mind that he felt jumpy; he couldn't relax. He was hoping Youji would be home soon, so he could forget, lose himself in the other man's body.

He stubbed out the tail end of his cigarette and sighed. He checked his watch. He sighed again. He idly rubbed the still tender skin of his palms and waited.

And waited ...

He was almost dozing, chin on hands, when he heard the quiet click of the back door and a muffled clunk as Youji dropped his boots on the tile floor of the kitchen. Yawning, he ran a hand through his hair and stood up.

Youji came around the corner and stopped in surprise. "Aya," he said softly.

Ran nodded, and came down a few stairs to meet Youji in the middle. Youji put his arms around him, almost like the night on the roof. They hadn't talked about it, because Ran didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to know how close he was to succumbing to Kikyou altogether.

"Want to go to my room?" Youji asked. His clothes smelled like cigarette smoke and liquor, but his breath held the sweet fizz of soda.

"You're not drunk," Ran said.

"No," Youji said, and led him up the stairs.

This time, out of all the other times, it was somehow different. They kissed, but it was almost without urgency, without a clear purpose, a kiss for the sake of kissing. Youji held him close, breathed in the scent of his hair. He buried his face in Youji's neck, taking comfort, for once, in the closeness of another human being. Youji pulled back and smiled a little.

"I want more," he said.

"What?" asked Ran. He stepped out of the circle of Youji's arms.

"Aya ..." Youji looked down at his bare feet for a second and chewed his lip. Without meeting Ran's eyes, he said, "I want you to fuck me."

Ran was rooted to the spot. He had always allowed Youji to use his body, given himself to the other man. Except for a few times in their early relationship, before Neu, before SS, he had always given to Youji, never received. No debt. "I don't -" he began.

"Please," Youji said, stepping forward and eliminating the space between them.

Ran cupped Youji's cheek, wishing his life was simple for one brief instant. But it never was. "All right," he said.

Youji grinned at him, suddenly not serious again. He stripped his shirt over his head in one fast movement and then tugged on Ran's as well. "Hurry up," he said, growling playfully.

Ran allowed Youji to take his shirt, then walked the taller man gently backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. He grappled with Youji's belt, pulling pants and underwear down in one swift yank. Youji stepped out of his pants, falling back on to his wide bed with a gusty sigh. Ran followed him more carefully, after leaving his loose pants in a puddle on the floor.

They lay side by side, Youji slowly stroking Ran's back, Ran's hand tangled in Youji's long hair. They kissed for an eternity, and Ran's world narrowed to a warm sweet mouth, a slick tongue, and full lips until Youji groaned and pulled Ran on top of him.

"You're killing me," he said, bucking his hips up and rubbing their erections together.

Ran smiled a little at that, and Youji's eyes softened. He took the lube that Youji dug out from under the pillow and let it warm in his hand, enjoying the feel of Youji's hard body beneath him. Youji pushed his shoulder and Ran mock frowned at him, but knelt between Youji's spread legs and slicked his cock, biting his lip at even that sensation. He slid one finger into Youji's body, and Youji arched, gasping, as he spread lube around as best he could. He was about to add a second finger when Youji stopped him.

"I want all of you at once," he said.

Ran frowned, for real this time. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Youji just nodded, once, and lay back down. "Now," he said.

Shuffling forward a little, Ran did as he asked, pushing in slowly, carefully, ignoring Youji's whisper of, "Faster, dammit." He paused when he was in deep, their hips touching, and leaned forward, bracing himself on one hand and taking Youji's dripping erection in the other. Youji's eyes were closed, his mouth open.

"Yes," he breathed.

Ran started to move, and Youji wrapped his legs around his hips, urging him to push harder, faster. Their breaths mingled together as Ran lost himself in the tight heat of Youji's body, in the feel and taste and smell of the man beneath him.

His eyes snapping open, Youji gripped Ran's shoulders hard and came with a shout. Ran shuddered, pushed over the edge as Youji's muscles clamped down on his cock. He shoved himself deep, trembling as the rush of pleasure slowly left his body. Dropping his head to Youji's chest, he breathed in the saltiness of his skin.

"Good," Youji said, stroking his hair.

Ran made a sound that could have been taken as assent and rolled to the side. He lay there for a moment before gathering himself up and pulling himself to his feet.

"Aya," Youji said, propping himself up on an elbow.

Ran turned. "My real name is Ran," he said. "Now we're even." No debt.

"What?" Youji looked startled.

Avoiding Youji's eyes, Ran said, "I don't want to owe you anything."

"Ran," Youji said. "Let's get one thing straight." He grabbed Ran's wrist and yanked him off balance, back onto the bed.

"I don't think we should -" Ran began, but Youji silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"You don't owe me anything," he said, his finger leaving Ran's mouth and stroking his cheek. "That's not what this is about. That's not what I want."

Ran was silent under Youji's hand, his head turned away, his eyes closed. He didn't understand. Life was black and white, it was about give and take. People only helped others so they could be helped in turn. He didn't know what Youji was asking of him.

Kikyou was silent. He always was when Ran was with Youji.

"What do you want?" Ran whispered, too afraid to even open his eyes.

"You," Youji said simply. "Not just your body, though there's no denying I want that." He laughed.

"No Emotions," Ran said quietly.

Youji said nothing, but his hand stilled in Ran's hair.

"Shion ..."

"I see." Youji sat up. "You don't owe that bastard anything," he said fiercely. "He made his own choices; he chose to walk down that path."

Ran rolled over, pulling Youji back down and laying his head on his chest. He was so tired. He couldn't face his cold room, his empty bed, Kikyou's voice whispering to him out of the shadows. There was a tiny part of him that wanted to believe Youji, that this could be different. He couldn't bring himself to squash that small hope.

"Maybe someday you'll convince me," Ran said.

Youji put his arms gingerly around Ran, as if afraid he would break. "Maybe I will," he said.


End file.
